


Inventing Love

by Wonko



Category: Holby City
Genre: Drabble Collection, Episode Related, F/F, Long-Distance Relationship, each chapter is standalone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-03-21 22:06:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13750164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonko/pseuds/Wonko
Summary: Collection of mostly post-ep ficlets/drabbles during the long-distance phase of Bernie and Serena's relationship.





	1. Picture the Mountains

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Carol Ann Duffy's poem [Miles Away.](http://www.scottisharts.org.uk/1/artsinscotland/literature/features/archive/poemaugust2004.aspx)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-ep for S20E08: Hard Day's Night.

Serena sighed deeply as she settled into the frankly inadequate two seater sofa, wrapping the duvet round her. She was too bloody old for this. Too bloody old for a lot of things, like being woken at 2am by a frantic nephew and summoned to examine a mortified young pregnant woman’s vaginal discharge. Or like being called in to work for a complete non-emergency two hours after that.

She pulled her phone from her coat pocket and thumbed open the calendar app to check Bernie’s shifts. Her eyes closed in relief as something finally went right. Her partner wasn’t due to start until 10am Nairobi time and, since it was now 7 o’clock there, Serena wouldn’t even feel bad about waking her up.

The phone rang four times before Bernie picked up. “Mmmph, hello?” came an achingly familiar voice, husky with sleep.

“Rise and shine, darling,” she purred, smiling when Bernie immediately perked up.

“Serena.” Bernie’s voice was like a warm bath, enveloping her, relaxing her. She sighed and let her head fall back onto the arm of the couch.

“Hello, my love,” she said, relief mingling with weariness.

When Bernie spoke, she could hear the frown in her voice. “Everything all right?”

“Oh, just babies, unnecessary callouts and people telling me things I really don’t want to know.” She sighed. “I miss you so much.”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. “I miss you too,” Bernie said at last. “Just close your eyes and imagine me curled up next to you in our bed.”

Serena snorted out a laugh. “Would that I could. I’m in the on call room, on the sofa, in my pyjamas like a bloody medical student.”

“Pyjamas?” Bernie said. “Which ones?”

Serena frowned. “Oh, the navy ones with the white trim and the sort of diamond pattern.”

“Sexy.”

Serena laughed. “Plus my extremely alluring old-lady slippers.”

Bernie just growled and Serena laughed again. “Oh, this was exactly what I needed,” she said.

“I’m glad,” Bernie replied softly. “Want me to help you drop off?” 

Serena smiled gently, pulling the duvet more closely round her shoulders. “Yes please.”

Bernie coughed to clear her throat. “All right,” she said. “Picture the mountains…”

Serena closed her eyes, a smile on her lips as she listened to her partner’s beloved voice - travelling from a flat in Nairobi, bouncing off a satellite in orbit, then finally beaming back to the phone in her hand - all so Bernie could gradually lull her into a pleasant dream. It was almost like having her beside her.

Almost.


	2. The Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of connected to S20E09 - Ache. Vaguely.

Serena received the text just as she was leaving the house.

_Got your package. So excited. Can’t wait until we FaceTime tonight._

A slow smile spread across her face as she thought about the contents of the package she’d sent Bernie. There were many things they could muddle through with in this long distance thing they’d unexpectedly found themselves in. But some things needed...intervention. She fired off a quick text back.

_Looking forward to it. Should be home by 6. Be ready for me._

In the end, she was a little bit late. Donna had monopolised her time a little at work, fretting over Ric and her summons to appear in the case against him. Then John Gaskell had come to see her, all smiles and obsequious charm, telling her about the investigations she’d made. She didn’t know what it was, but something about that man made her teeth itch. And she’d learned from long experience never to ignore a gut feeling.

Still. All that could wait until tomorrow. Tonight she had a date with Bernie that she did not want to miss. She just had a few preparations to make first.

“Hello stranger,” she crooned ten minutes later when the black square on her laptop screen finally resolved into the beloved face of her partner.

“Hello you,” Bernie replied. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Serena sighed, stroking her finger across the curve of Bernie’s jaw on the screen.

“Long day?”

Serena shrugged. “Aren’t they all?” Her eyes gleamed. “But don’t pretend you’re interested in smalltalk. I know what you want.”

Bernie’s voice lowered a fraction. “Well,” she said softly. “I am ready for you. As requested.”

They stared at each other for a few more seconds, letting the anticipation build. Then Bernie grinned and lifted her knife and fork.

“God, I’ve missed this,” she said as she took her first bite. Her voice was ecstatic, rapturous even. Serena smiled widely as she began to cut up her own beans on toast.

“If only I’d known a tin of Heinz baked beans was enough to satisfy you,” she teased.

Bernie made a muffled sound of protest through her mouthful of bread and beans. “Oi,” she said at last. “I’ve been craving this for weeks. You don’t know what it’s like.”

Serena’s eyes dipped lower, taking in the hint of cleavage exposed by Bernie’s light vest top. “Oh, don’t I?” she purred.

Bernie swallowed again, but this time there was nothing in her mouth. “Well,” she said. “Perhaps I can do something about that...craving. If you take your laptop up to the bedroom...”

Serena’s eyes darkened. “Yes please.”

Bernie smiled a crooked smile. “After dinner though,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my three bean-hating amigos. You know who you are.


	3. Snakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serena calls Bernie for a drunken chat about certain reptiles of her acquaintance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-ep for S20E10: Square One.

“I’m surrounded,” Serena said, slurring over the  _s_  with a sibilant hiss, “by snakes.”

Bernie smirked, watching the subtle play of emotions over her partner’s face as she talked. Frustration, and tiredness and sheer sickness-to-the-back-teeth of it all. She thought about reminding her that she’d once coveted this job, stabbed her share of people in the back to try and get it, but thought better of it. “How many have you had?” she asked instead.

Serena waved the question away. “Just two.”

“Glasses?” Bernie raised an eyebrow.

“Bottles.”

Bernie tried to hide her wince but didn’t quite manage it. “Please don’t turn into a problem drinker while I’m away,” she said, only half joking.

“This bloody job might drive me to more than drink,” Serena grumbled. “It’s a sad day when the only joy in it is shouting at some arrogant, sexist ponce of a registrar.”

Bernie affected a pout. “The  _only_  joy?”

A slow smile spread over Serena’s lips. “Fishing for affection?” She ran her fingers gently over the screen of her phone, trying to let her fingertips remember the texture of Bernie’s skin. “I wish you were here,” she murmured.

“Me too.” Bernie took a deep breath. “Just remember, these snakes have no power over you. If it all gets too much, you can just pack it in. I know Hanssen needs the time, but if it’s messing with your head...”

Serena nodded. “I know,” she said. “But don’t worry about me. I’ve outwitted better men than John Gaskell and Xavier Duvall.” Her voice had turned low and husky with tiredness and alcohol.

Bernie suppressed a shiver. “Is it bad that I just got aroused?”

Serena’s only response was a joyous laugh. 


	4. One of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serena finds an uninvited guest on her doorstep at the end of Ric's first day back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-ep ficlet for S20E14, _Tete a Tate_.

Ric begged off after a couple of slices of cake and just one drink, claiming tiredness after his first full shift back. Serena thought about encouraging him to stay, but eventually decided not to push. After all he’d been through over the last few months, he probably needed some time to decompress. Particularly after this day, she thought he’d probably be heading to his garage where she knew he’d set up a couple of heavy bags on which to take out his frustrations.

Her own frustrations would be dealt with by the half bottle of Shiraz sitting on her kitchen countertop, plus the FaceTime call with Bernie she’d scheduled for 8 o’clock. Bringing the clocks forward had pulled her a little closer to Bernie’s timezone and communication had become slightly easier over the last couple of weeks. Losing an hour in bed one weekend - something she usually dreaded each year - seemed more than worth it now.

Jason was staying with Greta for the night, so she had the house to herself. At least, that was what she thought until she pulled up onto her driveway and found Abi Tate sitting on her front step.

“You took your time, Campbell,” she grumbled as Serena stepped out of the car and locked the door.

Serena raised one eyebrow. “Well, if I’d known I was having an uninvited guest I’d have dashed back, obviously.”

Abi winced. “Sorry,” she said. “Do you want me to go?”

“No, no,” Serena said, waving her hand vaguely in the air. “Come in. I’ll make tea.”

“Couldn’t convince you to make something a bit stronger, could I?” Abi said as she followed Serena to the kitchen.

“Nope.” Serena put the kettle on and gestured for her visitor to take a seat at the breakfast bar. “You’re leaving at five to eight. I have a date.”

“Poetic.” Abi smirked. “Rhyming at least.”

“Oh, I can do better than that. There once was a doctor named Tate. Her first day went  _really_  great.”

Abi slumped over the counter, resting her head in her hands. “Oh, the sarcasm is cutting. Don’t kick me when I’m down.”

Serena placed a mug of tea on the counter and regarded her guest with narrowed eyes. “You’ve got precisely ten seconds to get over this self pity. You don’t have time for it in your job.”

Abi raised her head. “Ten seconds? You weren’t this harsh when I was an F1.”

“Well, you’re not an F1 now, are you? You’re my boss.”

Abi blinked. “Right.” She blinked again. “It feels a little bit unreal, somehow.”

Serena glanced at the clock, mentally calculating how long it would take for her to whip her old friend slash boss into shape. She probably had enough time, she decided.

“Right,” she said firmly, channeling her younger self who’d been a newly appointed consultant training her first batch of F1s. “Listen to me, Doctor Tate.”

Abi responded on an instinctive level, her spine stiffening as if the intervening sixteen years had never happened.

Serena crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re being paid handsomely to put up with every problem that hospital can create. I know exactly how handsomely, because until last week, that was  _my_  job. So listen up.”

Abi nodded, sitting up a little straighter. “Okay.”

Serena held up a finger in the air. “One. You represent the board’s decisions to the staff. Don’t try to curry favour by playing the ‘oh, it’s so tiresome, the board are making me do this’ game. It makes you look two-faced.”

Abi winced. “Right.”

Serena raised a second finger. “Two. Watch out for John Gaskell. The man’s a snake.”

“Noted. Will want further details on that, but go on.”

Serena raised a third finger in the air. “Three. Text me before you turn up on my doorstep next time.”

“Also noted.” Abi sighed deeply, shaking her head. “Amazing how you can make me feel like a whiny junior doctor even now.”

Serena smiled. “Oh, you’re fine. There’s a registrar on my ward who’s currently enjoying the sharp edge of my tongue.”

“Thought you’d be reserving that for your butch army girlfriend.”

A warm flush flowed through Serena’s chest at the thought of Bernie. The ghost of a smile danced across her lips. “She’s actually what we on the sapphic team call soft-butch.” She pressed a button on the side of her phone to reveal her lock screen. “That’s her.”

Abi smiled. “Wow, she’s gorgeous,” she said, then noticed the time. “And it’s five to eight. I’ll let you get to your hot date.”

Serena nodded, walking her unexpected guest back to the door. “Oh, Abi?” she said, making the other woman halt and turn on the garden path.

“Yes?”

“Make sure you get into theatre at least once a week, even when Jac’s back. Don’t forget you’re one of us.”

Abi nodded solemnly. “I won’t.”

When she was gone, Serena locked the door and padded back to the kitchen. She picked up Abi’s untouched mug of tea and had just taken a sip when the phone buzzed in her hand. She smiled. Right on time.

She swiped right to accept the call and waited for the picture to resolve. Her heart swelled when a familiar smiling face appeared. “Hello you.”

“Hello stranger,” Serena purred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No doubt this theory about how Abi and Serena know each other will be shortly disproved, but with their approximately 15 year age gap this makes sense to me.


	5. The Art of Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-ep ficlet for S20E15 - Tate Gallery.

“It’s bloody ridiculous!”

Bernie leaned back against her headboard, smiling benignly at her partner’s outburst. Serena was beautiful when she was angry. Bernie had always thought so, even when the anger had been directed at her. Perhaps especially then, she thought with a little flush of heat before deliberately shoving that thought back down. This wasn’t one of those calls - not yet, anyway.

Although... That gave her an idea.

“What is, darling?” she said, leaning up to pull her hair out of its tiny ponytail and shake the waves loose.

“The stupid bloody restrictions they’ve put on Ric,” Serena continued, waving her hands in the air. She’d perched the phone against something so she could use both hands to underline her points. 

“Shocking,” Bernie agreed casually, slowly beginning to unbutton her shirt.

Serena hadn’t yet noticed what her partner was doing. “Take today for instance,” she continued. “Young lad, tumor inside him the size of a bloody rugby ball.”

“Mmm hmm,” Bernie said slipping her shirt off her shoulders.

“What was I supposed to do, just let him bleed to death?” Serena continued shrilly. “Let an F1 assist?”

“Of course not,” Bernie agreed placidly. Unnoticed by Serena, pacing the floor in her living room six thousand miles and change away, Bernie slipped off her vest top. She waited, watching Serena continue to pace and rant, wondering when her partner would finally notice that she was sitting in just her bra.

“Abi Tate’s trying her best, I suppose,” Serena conceded. “I begin to wish I hadn’t been so quick to give up the reigns though. When Henrik officially stepped down I thought I was well shot of the job, but Ric could do with a friend in his corner.”

“You don’t mean that,” Bernie said, reaching up behind her to unclasp her bra and let it fall from her shoulders. “You don’t want to be the CEO, you just want to help your friend. I understand, Serena.”

Serena smiled softly. “I know. You always understa-”

The words died in her throat as she finally looked back at the screen and realised that Bernie was wearing far fewer clothes than she had been a minute ago. She coughed, suddenly flushing with a heat that had nothing to do with lingering indignation at Ric’s treatment.

“I thought maybe I could take your mind off things,” Bernie said innocently. “Perhaps you’d like to take me to bed?”

Serena didn’t need to be asked twice.


	6. In Order of Importance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serena's bullet pointed list, Bernie's reply, and the conversation it inspired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by S20E21: Belonging. Haven't had enough Serena content to do one of these for a long time!

To: mjrbgwolfe@hotmail.com  
From: serenacampbell@gmail.com  
Subject: Our Relationship

Darling,

I realise you’re very busy. So am I. However, I feel that communication has somewhat ground to a halt these past few weeks and the situation is becoming untenable. Therefore, I would like to discuss the following at your earliest convenience:

  * A schedule for calls/FaceTime. This ad hoc business isn’t working for me.
  * A realistic timetable for when we might be able to see each other face to face.
  * A commitment to communicate at least once a day, even if it’s just text messages.
  * A plan for what we’re going to do to help Jason and Greta when the baby comes.
  * Your opinion on my haircut, which you have apparently failed to notice.



Love,

Serena

***

To: serenacampbell@gmail.com  
From: mjrbgwolfe@hotmail.com  
Subject: re: Our Relationship

Love of my life,

You are correct, I am indeed extremely busy. Imagine the opening of Holby’s trauma unit, times ten, with extra heat and about seven different languages being spoken around you at all times. We’re entering a very critical phase right now and I’ve been working twenty hour days to get everything ready on time. With that in mind:

  * Ad hoc may be the best I can do right now. As soon as I can do better, I will.
  * Not really within my power. You are, of course, free to visit at any time.
  * Provided you don’t get annoyed about me texting at odd hours like last time, agreed.
  * As previously discussed, I think Jason and Greta will require much less support than you seem to think.
  * Your hair, like the rest of you, is lovely.



Love,

Bernie

***

To: mjrbgwolfe@hotmail.com  
From: serenacampbell@gmail.com  
Subject: Re: re: Our Relationship

Thank you  _soooo_ much for your highly considered response. You’ve really made me feel better about the state of our relationship. Bravo.

S

***

To: serenacampbell@gmail.com  
From: mjrbgwolfe@hotmail.com  
Subject: Re: re: re: Our Relationship 

You’re very welcome.

B

PS - I will call on Tuesday at 10pm your time, emergencies notwithstanding.

***

To: mjrbgwolfe@hotmail.com  
From: serenacampbell@gmail.com  
Subject: Re: re: re: re: Our Relationship

If you can fit me in to your very busy schedule.

S

***

An emergency did, in fact, delay Bernie's call to Serena and it was nearly eleven thirty UK time before she managed to get to her phone. She slumped down to the floor, leaning against her locker, sweating lightly through her scrub top as she thumbed to her recent contacts and dialled Serena's number, already girding her loins for what was waiting for her. She was expecting exasperation, anger maybe. Probably.

What she got was much, much worse.

"I know, I'm late; I'm sorry," she began as soon as Serena picked up.

A shuddering breath followed by a quiet sob were her only replies.

She was immediately alert, sitting up straight, eyes widening. "Serena? Darling, what's wrong?"

Serena didn't seem capable of coherent speech. Bernie could just about make out the words  _Jason_ and  _overbearing_ and  _Elinor_ and  _doesn't need me anymore._

"Sssh, sssh, darling," Bernie soothed uselessly. "It's all right. I promise, it'll be all right."

Slowly, Serena's helpless sobs subsided. "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I didn't mean to do this. It's just been such a long day. If you'd called at ten I'd probably be shouting at you instead."

Bernie winced. "Quite deserved, I'm sure. I'm sorry about the emails. I didn't handle things very well."

She could hear Serena's breathing over the crackle of the line. "Neither did I," she admitted. "I've, uh...I've not been handling much right lately, it seems."

Bernie listened, her eyes gently closing, as Serena explained all that had gone on with Greta and Jason and the baby, and her recent realisation that she'd been focusing so much on the baby as a distraction to what was really bothering her.

"I just miss you so much," she said, tears starting up again. "And I feel like I'm not part of your life at all anymore."

Bernie paled. "No. Serena, no. You're the first thing I think of when I wake up. You're the last thing in my mind before I go to sleep." She pressed a hand over her heart, feeling the soft thud of her pulse. "You're always with me. I promise."

There was a long pause, during which Bernie felt anxiety settle in her belly like a bag full of butterflies. Eventually, Serena took a breath. "But I'm not," she whispered forlornly. "I'm here and you're there. And that's not changing, is it?"

The butterflies wilted and died. "What are you saying?" she said softly.

Serena sighed. "We're not breaking up," she said. "I know that's what you think I'm saying, but that's not it. I just...I need _something,_ Bernie. Something to look forward to. Some light at the end of the tunnel. Can you do that? For me?"

Bernie's eyes slid closed. "Yes," she said. "Leave it with me."

"Okay."

"I love you, Serena."

Serena let out another soft sigh. "I know, darling. I love you too. So much."

But love, Bernie knew, wasn't their problem.

When Serena had wished her goodnight and gone to bed, Bernie pulled herself to her feet and trudged up the four flights of stairs to her boss's office. It was late but he was still there, doing some admin. She knocked on the doorframe and waited for him to look blearily up at her, squinting over the frames of his glasses.

"I need you to give me some time off," she said. "As soon as you can manage it..."


	7. Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-ep ficlet for S20E25 - Primum Non Nocere Part 2.
> 
> In which Bernie and Serena discuss their communication problems.

Some part of Serena knew she was dreaming, but that didn’t stop the panic like bile rising in her chest. She was in the hospital, because it was frequently the location of both her dreams and her nightmares. Some nights she’d dream of the AAU office, in Bernie’s arms with the blinds closed. Other nights - the hard nights - she’d relive those awful hours after Elinor’s surgery, when the neuro team had told her there was nothing left to be done, when she’d had to sign the papers that would turn off the ventilator and start the process of harvesting the organs of her only child. **  
**

Tonight her visit to the hospital that lived in her mind started like her best dreams, with Bernie in the office, reaching over to close the blinds while they kissed and stroked each other’s hair and held each other so tightly that it was hard to tell where one woman ended and the other began. But soon it turned dark and tense, with misunderstandings and raised voices and bitter recriminations flying through the air. The dream began to lose its coherence, devolving into images and feelings - Bernie’s face in the hallway as Serena walked away from her, tears in her eyes and a false smile on her lips; Fleur and Donna shaking their heads at her in disgust; walking from room to room, desperately searching for a glimpse of a grey coat or messy blonde hair, but finding nothing but a bleak emptiness.

She woke with tears running down her cheeks, her heart racing. For a moment she didn’t remember what had really happened and was so bereft she could hardly breathe.

Then a pair of familiar strong arms wrapped around her and it all came back in a rush - finding Bernie just in time, bringing her home, making love until the early hours and falling asleep with their hands entwined. She buried her face in Bernie’s neck and breathed in her familiar scent, letting relief wash over her like a soothing balm.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bernie said gently after a few long moments.

Serena nuzzled closer into her neck and shrugged. “Just a bad dream,” she mumbled, the words muffled against Bernie’s skin. “I couldn’t find you.” She took a deep breath, chasing away the last of the dream-inspired dread. “I let you go, and I couldn’t get you back.”

Bernie stayed silent for a long time, stroking Serena’s hair in the warm dark. Serena lay still and let her, knowing her partner was organising her thoughts, building herself up to speak.

“I think we let _each other_ go,” Bernie said at last. Her voice was soft but sure, like the touch of her hands over Serena’s back.

“Hmm,” Serena agreed. “We did, rather.” She pulled her head back, searching for Bernie’s eyes in the dark. “Why did we do that?”

There was silence for a long moment as they lay staring at each other, breathing quietly in the dark. Then Bernie pulled away and sat up, clicking on the lamp on the bedside table.

“I’m not good at this,” she began, gesturing between them. “Talking.”

Serena smiled gently as she sat up too, taking her partner’s hand. “I know, darling,” she said. “My action woman.”

“Ha!” Bernie barked out a brief laugh. “The thing is...you’re not great at talking either.”

The look of surprise and indignation on Serena’s face would have been comical at any other time. Even tonight it drew a smile, before Bernie turned serious again.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “Think about today. _You_ decided long distance wouldn’t work. We didn’t discuss it. We didn’t talk about our expectations or our hopes.” She shook her head as Serena opened her mouth to speak. “And I know that was me as well. I left the decision up to you, because that’s what I always do. I’m always so...careful, I suppose. Afraid I might ruin everything with the wrong word.”

“Oh, darling,” Serena murmured, stroking her hand over Bernie’s bare forearm. “You could never…”

“I’m trying hard everyday to believe that.” Bernie managed a watery smile as she covered Serena’s hand with hers. “But what happened today, what we nearly did…” She shook her head. “It scares me, Serena. And it was all because we didn’t actually talk to each other.”

They lapsed into silence for a minute. Serena frowned, keeping her eyes fixed on their joined hands. At last, she sighed and nodded. “We need to learn to communicate better.”

Bernie’s eyes had regained a little of their earlier twinkle. “I think you’re right. Very astute, Ms Campbell.”

Serena aimed a little swat at Bernie’s backside, which turned into a tickle, which turned into a caress and an embrace. “Turn off the light,” Serena murmured against Bernie’s lips, waiting until she complied before pulling her down into a loose hug.

It was just after 4am and the sky outside was just starting to lighten. This close to midsummer, the hours of dark were short, even this far south. Somehow that felt right: holding Bernie in that liminal space between night and day, in the magic bubble of their bed.

“Sometimes I feel like damaged goods,” Serena whispered into the stillness of the room. “Like I’m an anchor, holding you back.”

Outside, a few birds began to chirp, heralding the coming dawn.

“Oh,” Bernie breathed. “Serena...no. No, darling. You could never hold me back. You set me free.” She stroked her fingers through Serena’s hair, and pressed a kiss to her temple. The room was still and quiet as she whispered her fear against Serena’s skin. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not enough.” She blinked against the painful nip of tears. “I’ve always let the ones I love down. Marcus needed me to be someone I could never be. Alex wanted more than I could give. I don’t want to let you down too.”

Serena pulled back so she could look into Bernie’s eyes. “You never could. You’re more than enough for me, Berenice Wolfe.” With a slightly trembling hand she reached up and wiped the tears from Bernie’s eyes before leaning forward to flutter a kiss, butterfly light, over each eyelid. “I love you so much. And I’ll be better. No more making decisions without talking. No more assumptions.”

Bernie swallowed hard. “I’ll be better too,” she said. “No more noble self-sacrifices that just make us both miserable.” She leaned forward and stole a kiss. “I love you too, darling. So much.”

More birds had joined in the morning chorus in the garden. The sky was lightening by the minute, though sunrise was still a little way off.

“We’re not getting back to sleep tonight, are we?” Serena murmured.

“Mmm,” Bernie agreed. “We’ll have to think of some other way to pass the time.” She punctuated her words with a firm caress over Serena’s back, heading south. Serena raised an eyebrow, then grinned.

Well, communication was about more than words, after all. There was such a thing as body language.


	8. Two Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serena talks to a friend about her reaction to Leah's advances. Post-ep for S20E41 - The Three Musketeers.

Serena left the locker room, her heart racing and guts churning with something that felt like dread, and quietly wondered what the hell was wrong with her.  _ How hard is it to say ‘No, I don’t think that would be appropriate, Dr Faulkner?’  _ she thought bitterly. Very difficult, apparently, since she hadn’t managed to actually convey anything like it. Instead she rather feared she’d managed to not only look incredibly flustered by Leah’s quiet, confident invitation, but also tempted by it. Which was ridiculous.

_ Ridiculous,  _ she insisted firmly to herself.

She found after a minute or so that her feet weren’t taking her back to AAU, to where her office and a stack of paperwork were waiting. Instead she found herself hovering outside Obs and Gynae. Before she could consider it more deeply, she slapped her ID badge against the door lock and quietly pushed the now unlocked door open.

Fleur found her ten minutes later, slumped on the floor outside delivery room A, her eyes closed. She was about to make some humorous quip about the strangeness of finding her friend in such a position, but something about the way Serena was holding herself made her pause. She seemed tense, like she was one wrong word away from snapping.  Quickly reevaluating her strategy, Fleur closed her mouth and quietly slid down beside her.

“Good evening,” she said softly, and Serena jumped, her eyes snapping open and cheeks flushing red as she realised she’d been caught.

“Fleur,” she sputtered, then tried a smile that didn’t quite come off. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

Fleur raised an eyebrow. “What is it then, a hallucination?” She glanced around, her face bland. “Is this the corridor where you and Bernie waited for Guinevere to be born?”

“Yes,” Serena replied with a sigh and then, seemingly deciding she might as well go the whole hog, added, “I thought being here might make me feel close to her...somehow.”

“Hmm,” Fleur hummed, her eyes narrowed. “Wouldn’t FaceTime be better for that?”

To her surprise, Serena laughed. “Oh no,” she said. “That just emphasises how far we are apart.” At Fleur’s confused look, she cracked a rueful smile. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s very nice. Seeing her. Talking to her. But it doesn’t let you forget for a second that she’s not really here.” She sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. “What I really like is phone calls,” she said, almost confessionally. “When I can lie down in the dark with the duvet over my head and just listen to her voice. Sometimes I put her on speaker and sit the phone on her pillow. I occasionally manage to  _ almost _ convince myself that I could reach out to her side of the bed and touch her…”

She trailed off, and Fleur felt her heart clench at the image Serena’s words had conjured. With only a slight hesitation, she reached over and covered Serena’s hand with hers, squeezing gently when her friend’s head snapped round. For a few seconds she thought she’d made a mistake, that Serena would pull away and scamper off. But then she seemed to deflate slightly, her body angling towards Fleur’s as she allowed herself to lean on her.

They sat there quietly together for what felt like several silent minutes before Serena spoke again. “There’s a new F1 on AAU,” she said quietly.

“Oh?”

“Mmm. Leah Faulkner. A bit older than the standard intake. Quite competent.”

“That’s good,” Fleur replied, and waited.

“She’s a lesbian,” Serena said after a few moments. “Or bisexual, I’m not sure.”

“Uh huh.”

Serena looked up sharply. “Why does it feel like you already know where this is going?”

Fleur smiled benignly. “Whatever do you mean?” she said, then took pity. “Well, let me guess. She fancies you.”

Serena looked away, flushing. “She put her hand on my knee and invited me back to her flat on her first day.”

Fleur’s eyes widened. “That’s bold! What did she say when you told her about Bernie?”

Serena couldn’t look at her. “She already knew about Bernie,” she said quietly. “We’d just been talking about the difficulties of long distance relationships.”

Slightly taken aback, Fleur blinked. “Oh. Well, that’s...interesting.”

“And just now she asked me to get a drink with her,” Serena continued.

Fleur waited, but Serena had fallen silent. After a few moments of silence, Fleur frowned. “You know, I thought I was going to get to tease you about having to let some sweet little baby dyke down gently, but there’s more to this, isn’t there?”

Serena was staring at her shoes. “Like what?”

Fleur’s lips quirked in a sardonic smirk. “Is she pretty?”

“Maybe if you’re a cradle snatcher. She’s in Albie’s right now if you want to cast an expert eye over her.”

Fleur laughed, not stung by her friend’s pointed reminder of Sophia, the younger woman with whom she’d shared a rather tempestuous on/off relationship for several years before they’d finally called it quits not long before Fleur had arrived for her second stint at Holby. “Maybe I’ll do just that later,” she said with a wink, “since she’s clearly into middle aged temptresses. We could be a match made in heaven.”

“Be my guest,” Serena muttered.

Fleur sobered immediately. “She’s really got under your skin, hasn’t she?” she said, and Serena threw her hands in the air.

“Why do people keep saying that?” she demanded.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’re sitting on the floor having an existential crisis about her?” Fleur offered.

Serena’s mouth snapped shut and her jaw tightened. But before any kind of irritation or anger could take hold she seemed to slump, her shoulders falling and her head bowing. “She  _ is  _ pretty,” she admitted. “One might even stretch to  _ very _ pretty. And she’s young, and intelligent, and confident, and easy to talk to...well, before she propositioned me she was easy to talk to.”

Comprehension dawned on Fleur’s face. “I see,” she said, then squeezed Serena’s hand again. “You know, just because you’re very, very spoken for, doesn’t mean you have to pretend to be blind. Attraction isn’t cheating.”

Serena’s cheeks flushed crimson and she pulled her hand away. “I would never cheat on Bernie,” she insisted hotly. “I know what that feels like. I’d never do that to anyone, let alone the love of my life.”

Fleur raised her hands in mock surrender. “Easy there tiger. Notice I said that what you’re feeling  _ isn’t  _ cheating?”

Serena’s anger seemed to ebb away as suddenly as it began. “I shouldn’t be  _ feeling  _ anything,” she muttered helplessly. “Bernie’s the only...the only…”

“The only one for you,” Fleur finished for her. “Yes, that’s been abundantly clear for some time.”

To her surprise, Serena shook her head. “No. I mean, yes, she is, but that wasn’t what I was going to say.” She took a breath. “Bernie’s the only woman I’ve ever been attracted to.”

Fleur blinked slowly. “Right,” she said at last. “And were you under the impression that she was some sort of special case?”

“Well...yes, actually,” Serena admitted. “I mean...I’m fundamentally heterosexual. With one rather wonderful exception.”

Fleur’s eyebrows rose so high she was almost worried they might leave her face. “Hold on a second,” she said. “Did I just hear you - a woman who has literally just described another woman as the love of her life - describe yourself as ‘fundamentally heterosexual?’ Serena, I think you need to look that word up in a dictionary.”

Serena shook her head, her eyes wide and dark. “No,” she insisted. “I’m attracted to men. I’ve always been attracted to men. I’m  _ still  _ attracted to men. To quite a lot of men. A large variety of men. And one woman.”

“Two women,” Fleur corrected her, tilting her head at Serena’s irritated glance. “Come on Serena, don’t give me that. If this Leah thing was purely one way you wouldn’t be having this reaction.” She held up her hand to forestall her friend’s protests. “Let me say my piece.”

Serena ground her teeth. “Fine,” she grumbled.

Fleur inclined her head graciously. “Thank you,” she said. “So, from what I can gather, you’re sitting here on the floor of my ward feeling miserable and guilty because you’ve acknowledged an attraction to another woman for the second time in your life. You’re feeling guilty first of all because part of you thinks that feeling an attraction to someone else is a betrayal of your relationship with Bernie, which - by the way - it is not because, as I’ve said,  _ attraction _ is not  _ action _ .” At some point during her speech she’d begun to gesture and hold up fingers as if she was going through a mental list. She held a second finger up now. “Secondly, this is all getting tied up in your mind with the perfectly natural feelings of sadness and loneliness that come with being so far away from the person you love.” She held up a third finger. “And note I say person and not woman because I think this is the real elephant in the room here. You have the capacity to be attracted to and fall in love with different types of people, by which I mean both men and women. There’s a word for that, my dear, and it’s not anything like ‘fundamentally heterosexual with one rather wonderful exception.’ I know you know the word, because you’ve used it in this very conversation.”

Serena was staring at her hands, unable to meet Fleur’s eyes. “But…” she began, but trailed off.

“But what?” Fleur pushed. “But you fancy men most of the time? There’s no minimum required ratio before they let you into the club. You could fancy a million men and one woman and you’d still be-” She clamped her mouth shut, cutting herself off just before the next word could leave her mouth.

“Go on, say it,” Serena replied archly. “Don’t stop now.”

Fleur shook her head. “I’m not going to say it,” she murmured gently. “You are.”

There was a buzzing in Serena’s ears like a distant swarm of bees. Her heart was thudding almost painfully in her chest as she swallowed and moistened her suddenly dry lips. “Bisexual,” she said, very quietly. “You’re saying I’m bisexual.” She rolled the word around in her mind, letting her think of it in reference to herself for the first time. A tendril of panic licked at her heart, but only for a moment or two. To her surprise, once she thought about it with the rational part of her brain for a second, the label didn’t really feel uncomfortable. “I’m bisexual,” she said, trying it on for size. 

Fleur watched as Serena slowly began to sit up straighter, and smiled. “Not so scary really, is it?” she said. “I know there’s a bit of a fad these days to say ‘oh, sexuality is fluid, I don’t need labels,’ but I’ve always found them rather useful.”

“Must be a generational thing,” Serena said, smiling. “We are getting on a bit, Ms Fanshawe.”

Fleur bumped her shoulder against Serena’s. “Ageing like a fine wine, Ms Campbell.”

They sat together in companionable silence for a moment more before Serena straightened her shoulders and looked around, as if surprised to find herself in this corridor on the floor. “I should go home,” she said. “Call Bernie. I’ve been a bit silly, I think.”

“Mmm,” Fleur agreed. With a bit of an effort, she heaved herself up to her feet and reached out a hand to help Serena up. “After you’ve been to HR.”

Serena cocked her head. “What?”

“Serena,” Fleur said, with a note of steel in her voice. “You can’t be Leah’s mentor. You need to tell HR she made an advance towards you and pass her on to another consultant.”

For a moment, Serena looked blank. Then an expression of comprehension and something like horror passed over her face. “Oh, God.” She swallowed hard. “There are procedures to deal with situations like this. I  _ wrote  _ the bloody things when I was Deputy CEO.” She ran her hand over her face, sighing deeply. “I’ve been behaving like a prize halfwit.”

Fleur chuckled and linked her arm with Serena’s as they began to walk towards the door, not disagreeing. “Come on, I’ll go with you,” she said. “What are friends for?” 


	9. Family Only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Serena have a chat in Albie's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A weird one tonight - not a post ep fic like usual but a pre-ep one that I’m writing while the episode is actually on. Just something the pre-show spoilers gave me a bit of an idea for.

She’d been avoiding Albie’s for the last couple of week’s since the awkwardness with Dr Faulkner, but when Jason asked her to go with him for a glass of lemonade (well, his would be lemonade; hers would be Shiraz, of course) she couldn’t say no. She felt bad about her initial reaction to his plans to propose to Greta, and wanted to explain herself a little better.

“I was worried about the organisation,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “And the stress of the day - for you, more than anything.” She inclined her head. “And for me,” she admitted.

Jason blinked once. “I’d assumed we’d hire a wedding planner,” he said benignly, and she smiled ruefully.

“Yes, that’s been suggested to me already.” 

With a little stab of dread, she spotted the distinctive blonde pixie cut of Leah Faulkner at the bar. Praying she wouldn’t come over, she sunk a little lower in her seat. “And I suppose it was hard for other reasons,” she said, her mouth tight. “Because of Elinor.”

Jason frowned. “Because of Elinor?” he repeated. “What does she have to do with me getting married?”

A dark flush spread up Serena’s neck as she began to fiddle with her pendant. She looked down at the table, trying to think of how to phrase what she’d been feeling so he would understand.

“I suppose the idea of you getting married,” she said slowly, “just reminded me that she never will. That’s all.”

“Why not, is she a nun?”

Serena’s head snapped up at the unexpected voice and looked into Leah Faulkner’s smirking face. Her flush receded instantly, replaced with a devastating paleness and a feeling like her stomach had turned to ice.

Jason looked from Leah to Serena, a frown furrowing his brow. “No,” he said, drawing the word out. “We’re talking about my cousin, Elinor.”

Leah still looked none the wiser. If anything she looked even more gleeful. “Oh, is that your daughter?” she asked. “Is she as lovely as her mother?”

Serena felt like she’d been slapped in the face. Her mouth opened as if to reply, not that she could even think about speaking, but before she could gather her wits Jason beat her to it.

“She died,” he said, not bothering to disguise his annoyance. “I thought everyone knew that.”

“Dr Faulkner’s new,” Serena murmured, for some reason feeling the need to explain, or even defend, Leah’s mistake.

Jason shook his head. “Then she can’t know you well enough to interrupt a private conversation,” he said, then looked at Leah. “That was rude. I’d like you to leave now. This is a family conversation.”

Leah stumbled out an apology and made her exit, looking a good deal less cocky than she had a minute before. Something inside Serena was glad to see it, glad to see some of that confidence and swagger that had so disarmed her shaken off.

“I don’t like her,” Jason said, drawing her attention back to him.

Serena managed a smile. “Oh, she’s all right,” she said weakly. “Just a bit...” She trailed off.

“Rude?” Jason suggested, and Serena’s face broke into a grin.

“Yes, I suppose so,” she agreed, then shook her head. “But enough about her.” She leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Do you have a plan yet for your proposal?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got superseded by canon within twenty minutes - a new record! Oh well, yolo!


	10. Actually a terrible idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another pre-ep drabble, based on the preview video on the Holby City twitter account. Lofty, Leah and Meena finally get out of the lift.

“Right!” Leah said, grinning, as the three of them stepped out of the now repaired lift. “I need to go and see Ms Campbell.”

Lofty and Meena exchanged a look, their eyes widening simultaneously. “Is Ms Campbell the consultant you were talking about earlier? The one you fell for?”

Leah tapped her nose. “I can neither confirm nor deny.”

Lofty pressed on. “Because that would be a really bad idea,” he said. “Absolutely terrible.”

Leah frowned, her lip curling into an almost-pout. “You were encouraging me ten minutes ago.”

“Because we thought it was someone from another hospital!” Meena said, her voice a little high pitched. “Someone you’d known long enough to have real feelings for. We had no idea you were talking about a...a...”

“A crush,” Lofty finished for her.

Leah blanched. “It’s not a crush,” she insisted. “We have a connection.”

Lofty shook his head with what looked a lot like pity. “Leah...you don’t. She’s your mentor. Your supervisor. She’s practically married to Bernie Wolfe. You shouldn’t be pursuing someone in her professional position anyway, but even if that wasn’t an issue, it’s not cool to go after someone you know is in a relationship.”

“Yeah,” Meena agreed. “I take back my encouragement. That’s actually a really, really terrible idea.”

With a final shake of the head, they turned and walked away, leaving Leah alone in the corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so over the Leah storyline and it’s barely begun.


	11. Eternity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler speculation fic for the episode due to air on December 4th. Serena has to explain to Bernie what happened with Leah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I said I wouldn't touch these spoilers and just focus on my AU but I'm WEAK and also a goddamn liar.

Serena paused at the entrance to the ward, her heart tripping over itself just like it always did when she saw Bernie. Bernie, who was actually here. Another surprise visit. “We did say six months to a year,” she’d said with a grin when she’d strolled into the office two hours ago. “This was as close to Christmas as I could manage. And I didn’t know what else to get you.”

“Bottle of Shiraz usually does the trick,” Serena had replied on autopilot. And then Donna had called her over and a patient had needed a quick surgical procedure and Bernie had been left to her own devices on the ward.

Still, it seemed she was making friends.

Serena’s stomach sank into her leopard-print heels as Leah Faulkner sidled up to Bernie at the nurses’ station and engaged her in conversation. Her mind was screaming, but she just stood there, paralysed, unable to decide if going over there to separate them would lead to disaster or not. She couldn’t tell what Leah was saying, but there was no mistaking Bernie’s reaction. Horror-struck, she watched as Bernie looked up and searched the ward for her. When at last her partner found her, Serena felt the blood drain from her face. She didn’t recognise the look on Bernie’s face, and she didn’t want to stay to find out what it meant. Turning on her heels, she made blindly for the nearest staircase. She had to get out of there. Anywhere would do.

Somehow she ended up in the basement. She’d have thought her panicked subconscious would have taken her to the roof, but perhaps this was more appropriate after all. The roof had memories of sitting with Bernie, holding hands, promising to have a future together. Bernie promising to wait for her. _For eternity._

Eyes stinging with tears, Serena slumped against a wall and covered her face with her hands. She’d ruined everything. The love of her life. The woman she wanted to grow old with. Jason’s auntie Bernie - god, he’d never forgive her. And she wouldn’t blame him.

“Serena?”

Her head snapped up. She’d thought it would take Bernie longer to find her. Her stomach felt cold, like she’d eaten a bowl full of ice.

“I’m down here,” she called back, her voice cracking slightly. Best to get it over with quickly. Like tearing off a plaster.

She sank down onto the steps, her arms wrapping instinctively round her knees as she listened to Bernie’s footsteps getting closer and closer. After a moment, she felt Bernie sit down beside her, their sides pressing lightly together. She resisted the urge to sink into that warmth, knowing that her right to do that was about to be irrevocably revoked.

“So,” Bernie said quietly. “Leah.”

Serena winced. “Leah.”

There was a quiet pause. “Would you like to tell me what happened?”

A small, choked half-laugh half-sob escaped Serena’s lips. “Not really,” she said. “But I know I have to.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I just can’t stand how much you’re going to hate me after you hear it.”

Bernie held out her hand, palm up. “Try me,” she offered gently.

Heart breaking, Serena slid her hand into Bernie’s and held it tight, as if the mere act of clinging on to her could soften the impact of what she’d done. “It was this morning,” she began, voice quiet and monotone. “She was due on shift at nine but she didn’t show up. Someone told me she’d been here until one last night - you know what junior doctor shift patterns are like. She’d slept in the on-call room, so I decided to nip down and wake her up.”

Her mind drifted back as she spoke, remembering the darkness of the room as she opened the door, the way Leah had been so deeply asleep, how she hadn’t responded to her name or the light being switched on. She’d been forced to sit down on the edge of the bed and give her a shake before the younger woman blinked awake, groaning and rubbing her sleep-filled eyes.

_“Wakey-wakey Doctor Faulkner,” Serena said, with enforced jollity. “You’re half an hour late for your shift and I hear your consultant is a harridan.”_

_Leah smiled sleepily, stretching like a cat and exposing a strip of midriff where her scrubs rode up. Serena looked away quickly, a traitorous blush creeping onto her cheeks._

_“I think she’s all right,” Leah said, still grinning. “I was having a dream about you, you know.”_

_“Oh?” Serena stood up, her hand flying to her pendant to fidget with it nervously, hating herself a little for the way this woman got under her skin. “Do I want to know what it was about?”_

_Leah looked at her for a long moment, then rose from the bed in one fluid motion. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “Do you?”_

_Panic flooded Serena’s chest. “I think we’ve both got work to do,” she murmured, and Leah laughed._

_“Yes Ms Campbell,” she said, and headed for the door. Relieved, Serena followed her but was brought up short when the younger woman stopped in the doorway._

_“Doctor Faulkner?” she began, but her words died when Leah turned and glanced at her over her shoulder._

_“Thanks for waking me,” she said, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “What a beautiful face to wake up to.”_

_There was a second when Serena knew what was about to happen. Leah leaned forward, her eyes closing, her hand holding onto the door frame for support. Time somehow stretched out and contracted all at once. Serena opened her mouth to say something, she wasn’t sure what. But then it was too late._

“And that’s when she kissed me,” she finished, her voice as quiet and sad as Bernie had ever heard it. “I froze. I didn’t know what to do, what to say. And then she just...winked and went to start her shift.”

For a long moment Bernie didn’t respond. Serena could barely bring herself to raise her head, but she owed Bernie that much, she thought. She deserved to have Serena look her in the eye.

But when she did finally raise her head she didn’t see the expected disbelief or anger or betrayal in her lover’s eyes. Bernie’s expression was soft and infinitely gentle, full of love and compassion.

“And that’s all?” she asked gently. “She kissed you and you froze?”

Serena nodded miserably. “I knew she was infatuated with me,” she said. “I should have sent someone else down there. I should never have been alone with her. It was stupid and reckless and...oh God, Bernie, I’m so, so sorry.” She pulled her hand away from Bernie’s and brushed a rogue tear from the corner of her eye.

Bernie slid a hand over her shoulder blades and pulled Serena to her side. “Darling, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

Serena shook her head. “I should have shut her down the first time she flirted with me,” she said bitterly. “On my birthday. We were talking about long distance relationships and how hard they are and the next thing I knew her hand was on my knee and she was inviting me back to her flat.”

Bernie pulled her a little closer. “And did you go?”

Serena’s head snapped up. “No!” she exclaimed. “Of course I didn’t.”

Bernie smiled. “No. I didn’t think so.” She brought her hand up to stroke gently through the soft hair at Serena’s temple. “Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

Serena looked away. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve never...no woman’s ever...behaved like that around me before. I mean, you pretty much left everything in my court, didn’t you? You always have. My brave, self-sacrificing Major.” She managed a sad smile. “I didn’t want you to be worrying about it when you were so far away, I suppose. I mean, you don’t much like hearing about Fleur.”

Bernie shook her head. “That’s because Fleur’s an actual threat,” she said. “She’s an accomplished, charming woman. You’re a similar age and you have a lot in common. And she’s a lot of fun. I’d understand you wanting to be with her.”

Appalled, Serena turned and grabbed her free hand. “Bernie, no,” she said. “I want to be with _you._ I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

Bernie smiled. “I love you too.” Her hand continued to stroke gently through Serena's hair. “Serena, I trust you. I know you’d never cheat. It’s just not who you are.”

A mustard seed of hope began to slowly sprout in Serena’s heart. “You...you don’t hate me?”

“Oh, darling.” Bernie shook her head and tugged Serena forward, tucking her head under her chin. Serena’s arms slid automatically around Bernie’s waist. “Never. Even if you had done something you shouldn’t, I could never, ever hate you.”

A surge of relief swelled through Serena’s body, so strong that she felt it like a physical entity. It was like a wave, washing away the weeks of tension and guilt, leaving her weak and shaking and sobbing gently into the soft skin of Bernie’s neck.

Bernie held her through it, stroking her hair and pressing gentle kisses to her forehead, whispering words of love and comfort that neither of them would remember later.

When at last Serena felt calm again, she tilted her head back just far enough to see Bernie’s face. “I take it she told you want happened,” she said. “You seemed to already know what I was going to say when you came down here.”

Bernie’s lips curled up in a rueful smile. “Actually, she thanked me for being so understanding about your desire for an open relationship and promised to take care of your needs while I was away.”

“What?” Serena pulled back, horror spreading across her features. “I didn’t- I’d never-”

“I know,” Bernie interrupted, pressing a finger to Serena’s lips. “I came down here hoping to hear what you had to say about her. Now I know.” Her eyes were soft. “She’s clearly trying to break us up. But I’m not threatened by her. And I trust you, Serena. Always.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and then Bernie leaned forward and replaced her finger with her lips. Serena made a small sound of surrender and relief as she sank into the kiss, her hands sliding into Bernie’s hair.

“So what should I do about Leah?” she asked when the kiss broke, several long and delicious minutes later.

Bernie smiled. “Well, I think the first step is to show her that her attempt to break us up failed.” She reached into her pocket. “As it happens, I have a little confession to make myself. I did know what else to get you for Christmas.” She pulled her hand from her pocket, bringing out a small box. Serena’s breath caught in her throat.

Bernie held the box out to her and Serena took it in her trembling hand. She fumbled a little at the hinge, and gasped aloud when she finally snapped the box open to reveal a platinum band, inlaid all the way around with diamonds and sapphires.

“It’s an eternity ring,” Bernie murmured, watching Serena’s face as she pulled the ring from its box to examine it from all sides.

Serena swallowed hard. “Are you asking me…” she began, then trailed off, glancing at Bernie through her eyelashes.

“It’s not traditionally an engagement ring,” Bernie replied, then smiled. “But we aren’t exactly a traditional couple.”

“So you _are_ asking?”

“Would you be amenable if I was?”

Serena’s heart swelled with love. How like Bernie, to leave the ball in her court even for this, to never ask for more than she thought Serena would want. Smiling, Serena slid the ring onto the fourth finger of her left hand, then held it up to examine the way the light played across the cut stones. “I like spring, for a wedding,” she said, her voice only trembling slightly. “How about you?”

Bernie smiled. “Sounds perfect,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ring would look something like this: 
> 
> I know there are people who're not into the idea of them getting married but LA LA LA, I'm super into it.
> 
> Let’s just consider this the canon ending guys because YIKES.


End file.
